


So, Yeah, What Else Is She Gonna Do?

by Medie



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wears the hat. The hat, the gear, and not a whole hell of a lot else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So, Yeah, What Else Is She Gonna Do?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for The Losers Kink Meme prompt: Always a girl!Jensen/Cougar. pegging! extra cookie if Cougar sucks the strap on like a real cock while fingering her.

She wears the hat. The hat, the gear, and not a whole hell of a lot else.

Standing in the doorway, Jensen strikes a pose and watches him. He absolutely doesn't watch back, keeps taking the rifle apart with the same reverence he saves for her. Most days, the whole being on par with a gun would disturb her. Seriously, right? A _gun_?

But this is Cougar. She knows there are three things in the world that get that kind of attention. Other than her, he's holding one and she's wearing the other. It's kind of sweet, actually. Well, kind of sweet in a weird, slightly twisted kind of way, but that's her deal, okay? She does the weird, slightly twisted as her thing. She hacks, occasionally slices, dices, and shoots, and then goes home to soccer and the coolest kid this side of everything.

And sometimes, sometimes she fucks Cougar into next year. That right there is not something most people can understand, but if it's not Jensen's raison d'etre, it's pretty damn close.

Okay, so maybe her raison d'etre is probably 'badass auntie', but this isn't the time to be considering that so much. She probably shouldn't be thinking of setting the best example for the next generation when she's doing her best porn-star chic.

Especially not when she's doing her best porn-star chic and it is being _completely wasted_. That is just not right. When a lady - shut up, whoever - trots out the porn star, she doesn't do so lightly and a man best show some damn respect.

Or something. Whatever. She's good at this. She _is_. (Seriously, she knows a sniper. She has learned shit about long-ass vengeance and names _will_ be taken.)

She tries a cough, but he keeps right on cleaning and this could indeed get annoying. Really. Like, the house for now is empty, the computer's doing it's usual run through of house-keeping type shit that she hates doing and she is _not_ going to sit there, tapping her nails, wishing for a hot ass manicure (she is allowed to be a girl at times other than when Aisha's around being fucking awesome or Jolene's around being really, really fucking awesome. She _is_, shut up Pooch. And, wherever the fuck he is, Roque better stop laughing right this fucking second. The bastard. She's a girl and if she has to put up the cramps and the running with boobs - _ow_ by the way - then she gets to enjoy the sparkly nail-polish and fuck me shoes, goddamnit.) while being so not patient about waiting.

She loves her toys, but the maintenance is killer. She wants to fuck something, damn it, and she damn well knows he wants to be fucked, so, like _seriously_ what's up with this?

"I should've worn the shoes, right?" she huffs, crossing her arms. Which, yeah, is totally for effect. The girls might be a bitch to run with but they look smoking hot right now and no way he's missing it. They're his _favorites_ for fuck's sake.

His lips twitch and she smirks. "Oh god, seriously, it's always the shoes." Not that she doesn't understand. Combat boots for months on end? A pair of stilettos does not go astray.

Plus there's that whole 'doubling as deadly weapons in a pinch' deal which is never bad. She's pretty sure if she kills someone with her shoe, she gets to out badass Aisha for once.

Well, for like five minutes anyway. Aisha could probably kill someone with Jensen's shoe too _while she was still wearing it_. So, yeah, no illusions there.

She blinks. Cougar, about like less than an inch in front of her, grins. Smug bastard. She's got to do something about that some day. Not sure what, precisely, but she has dreams. Ideas. At some point in the distant future there might even be a plan.

Of course, it'll last about thirty seconds until Cougar busts out one of those _looks_ (panty-busting specials, god, you have _no_ idea) and yeah, starting from scratch.

It's their thing.

"I hate you," she informs him. "I seriously fucking hate you."

He flicks the brim of his purloined hat and grins wider. Cougar-speak for 'no, you don't.'

"Oh, but I do. You left me hanging. I am wearing a strap on and a hat, the hair is perfect, I _know_ everything else is perfect, and you totally left me hanging. I kind of hate you a lot right now."

Cougar does that little half-laugh that's more like a cough verging on something that might be a chuckle and leans forward. She scrunches her nose. "You're not going to like kiss my forehead or some dumbshit thing like that, right? Cause, I'm going to have to seek serious vengeance for that." Cause she's always been a little touchy about stuff like that. A girl in her line of work kind of can't help it what with two choices in coworkers. For the unfamiliar that would be the Fucktards and the Dicksmacks. The former would be the violent, 'groping's getting off easy' types and the latter would be the patronizing 'there there, little girl, let us handle it' types.

She hates both. Just to be clear.

"Nope."

He kisses her nose and, before she can protest (because that's _the same thing_), he starts sliding downward.

And that's just a good thing all around, because yeah, watching Cougar do this? Kind of the hottest thing ever.

Well, the second hottest thing ever. The first will, if all goes well, be happening in a couple minutes.

Right now, she's going to enjoy herself, just a little.

Oh, who the fuck is she kidding? She's going to enjoy herself a _lot_.

She slumps against the wall, hat tugged low on her eyes, and watches the performance. Pretty's not a word she'd use to define Cougar, it's just not, but maybe right now it kind of is. One hand on the dildo, the other tracing up the outside of her thigh, his eyes fixed on hers.

_Fuck_.

His thumb brushes the strap with the same instant he slides the dildo into his mouth and she jerks. "Dick," she mutters. "Play nice."

Cougar grins. His fingers slide along the strap, over the leather, pressing it into her skin and she gives up. Forget the whole meaningful stare thing, she closes her eyes tight and grabs for the wall. Fuck dignity. This is better.

She doesn't need to see anyway. She knows. His head's moving, keeping up the show whether she's watching or not, his fingers moving ever closer. She can almost count the timing, they're kind of precise, but it's still a surprise when a thumb brushes her clit and fingers move against her.

Jensen keens a whine, hips bucking out. Cougar laughs and then he's there. She hears him murmur something in Spanish, the sound as much as the words sliding smooth over jangled nerves and she takes the encouragement as it is. Riding his fingers until she's coming, fingernails digging into plaster and god, she's going to need a manicure after this.

She's still shaking when he pulls away, licking his fingers when she opens her eyes.

"Knock that off," she says, lazy. "You know I can't think straight when you do that."

He grins.

"Dick_wad_."

Cougar wraps those fingers around the dildo, tugging her forward. There's lube by the bed, already and waiting, right next to the gun oil and, oh my god, she just wishes. If they were anything approaching ordinary he'd be sleeping on the couch for a month. Thing is, they're not normal and they might not even have a couch in a month, so that plan's kind of shot right there.

She mutters all of this to herself while shoving him back onto said bed and grabbing for it. Prep is like the unsexiest thing in history without the muttering, but the muttering is there and that somehow makes it kind of sexy. Especially the part where he just leans back and stares at the ceiling with the kind of grin he usually saves for special occasions.

Mostly every time he breaks his own distance record. Also moments like this, which is probably why she hasn't gone postal on him yet. Cause, wow, some days she really, really could.

"I should just like find a pharmacist or something," she announces, sliding into him. "Like, seriously. Some small town somewhere, him with the pharmacy stuff, me with -- " she pauses. "Um, well, me with something." She can't do the soccer coach thing. She's been kind of banned and shit, so that's out. Something else, maybe. Uniform design. Websites. "Have a passel of little Jensens and eat KFC all the damn time."

His eyes darken, but there's a half-second of uncertainty there and she melts a little.

She thrusts deep, listening to his hiss of breath. "Nahhh, I'm betting as soon as I dragged out old Betsy, he'd run for the fucking hills." She sets up a good rhythm, the way they like it, and curls fingers around his cock. She really _likes_ his cock. Not that they're all that much to write home about, cocks, being kind of funny looking and all, but Cougar's...eh, she's partial. "Plus, a passel of little Jensens would probably cause a severe sugar shortage in the world and that would be cruel and wrong."

Dragging her fingers along his cock, she rests the other hand on his hip to steady herself. He brings his hand up to wrap around hers, thumb rubbing against her wrist. "Aw, that's kind of sweet, Cougs." She punctuates that with a harder thrust. He groans, just a little, and maybe it might've been close to a whimper. She likes it when he does that. Mixes things up just enough to keep it interesting. "I'm glad you think so. Personally, I kind of love it when you can spoil them rotten and then hand them back, but a mini-Jensen is not a bad plan. Just, you know, one that gets shelved for the day I am a rich and totally fucking awesome computer exec. Jensen Enterprises, guaranteed to bury Microsoft and Apple both because that's how I roll."

"Aw look, Cougs, you made a mess," she says, when he goes rigid, pulsing over her fingers. A few more thrusts and she's pulling out. A second or two after that, she's kicked the gear and flopped onto the bed with him. "See?" She wiggles her fingers then sucks one clean.

He watches as his breathing evens out. She wipes her hand clean, cause yeah he's way messier than she is, and looks back. He reaches over, running a finger along her cheek.

She had a boyfriend once. He'd promised to fuck her quiet. (There's nobody that good, but Cougar's come close.) Someday. Someday she is totally to fuck this man chatty.

They'll probably find Max faster, but hey, a girl has to have a goal.

At least a goal beyond murder and mayhem. Well, Clay gets the murder, but she's allowed to have the mayhem and that's kind of awesome.

"Jensen."

She blinks. Cougar. Right. _There_. Goddamn it, he really has to stop doing that. "Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Laughing, she pulls him on top of her. "Make me."


End file.
